


Bread Hood

by lacemonster



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Bondage, Choking, Contains Gluten, Daddy Kink, Extremely Dubious Consent, Food Kink, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 13:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18316277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacemonster/pseuds/lacemonster
Summary: A long time ago, a lost and starving Jason was picked up from the streets by Roman Sionis. Now, Roman is feeling a little nostalgic.





	Bread Hood

**Author's Note:**

> A long time ago someone explained to me that there was a fanon obsession between Jason and bread because there's a panel in Lost Days where Jason is gobbling down some bread.
> 
> Of course the context of that scene is that he was, uh, not in the right state of mind and was literally starving and needed to eat. I never thought much of the panel but apparently there's a lot of fans who took this panel to mean that Jason just REALLY FUCKING LOVES bread and so I made... whatever this is.
> 
> Anyways this story was intended to be kept between friends so please... keep that in mind and go no further if you're a sensitive reader.
> 
> Also non-celiacs, beware.

Jason had been kneeling on the hard ground for at least an hour before Roman entered the room. Jason shifted in place, the clinks of chains rustling in the air. His arms, bound above his head, ached worse than the pain in his knees.

Roman crossed the room, moving closer into the light, dressed nearly the same as the night they met. Jason still remembered it vividly—he had hit rock bottom, resorted to stealing food from stores just to survive. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the roll of car tires, thinking it was the cops, and was doubly shocked by the Rolls-Royce. The night that Jason was lured into the back of that car set the standard for every night with Roman. But Jason was willing to indulge Roman’s sick games if it meant staying off the streets.

He was so trained on Roman’s touch that the feeling of black leather against his cheek was almost comforting. Jason didn't flinch as Roman’s fingers slipped through his hair and grabbed, yanking his head back painfully. Jason looked up at him, staring into the dark, contorted features of the Black Mask. Those teeth always seemed to grin at him.

“I brought you something.”

Black Mask wasn’t exactly a romantic when it came to gifts. Ball gags, whips, cages and rings, toys so big that Jason could feel the ache for days—it was less sensual, more _to the point_. Jason eyed Roman carefully, not keen on whatever Roman had planned this time. Surely, the man had to run out of fresh ideas at some point.

His heart started to race faster. He clenched his jaw, tried to remain calm silently reminding himself of that poor boy on the streets. Never again. Even it it meant kneeling before this fucking pervert—never again.

But Jason wasn’t expecting what Roman showed him next. it took a moment to register what Roman had pulled out of his pocket, and it wasn’t until the faint fragrance hit him that it finally _clicked_.

His face immediately went hot with humiliation. Now he realized that Roman wasn’t dressed _like_ the day they met. It was the same damn outfit. When the object loomed toward his face, Jason immediately turned his head away. He clenched his jaw, trying to bite back his anger. If he was in any position besides strapped to the floor with his arms tied, he would have punched the man then and there.

No. No more humiliation. No more degradation. He’s lay there and spread his legs, take whatever punishment Roman wanted to give him, parrot whatever sickening words he was commanded to say. But no more. Not when it was this personal.

He didn’t have much of a choice, not when he was bound. Roman’s strength was always surprising, the suit and tie disguising his physical power. He pulled Jason’s head so far back, he thought his hair would rip from his scalp. Jason hissed between his teeth but he held onto his pride the best he could.

Jason closed his lips, ignoring the butting against his mouth. It wasn’t until a hard shoe dug into his gut once, _twice_ , that his lips finally parted. He didn’t even gasp in the time that Roman shoved his way into Jason’s mouth.

It was still warm, and so hard and thick that Jason wasn’t sure if he wanted to risk sinking his teeth into it. Using his hair as reins, Roman yanked him back and forth, forcefully bobbing his head.

Jason’s stomach turned, his face burning. Roman was fucking Jason’s face with this piece of bread as if it was his own dick.

If it wasn’t for the hard crust, it might have been soggy by now. The bread kept pistoning in and out of Jason’s mouth, filthy, wet sounds filling the room. Jason felt sick with humiliation at the sounds of his mouth, the wet squelches growing increasingly sloppy. He choked and gagged as the thick bread slammed too far in the back of his throat.

Roman didn’t let up. He fucked Jason’s face with the piece of bread until he could barely breathe. Jason could feel saliva pooling down his throat, he sputtered and coughed and choked, but the bread was too far down his throat. The asphyxiation made his face prickle with heat, his vision blurred. He felt hot tears on his cheeks, drool on the corners of his aching mouth.

It was difficult to focus. But all while Roman thrusted in and out of his mouth, Jason inwardly berated himself. Was this any better? Was degrading himself at the hand of a rich criminal any better than committing robbery? Had there been any point to this at all, when either option ended with him having bread stuffed in his mouth?

Jason inhaled a gulp of air when Roman finally released him, taking away the bread. Jason hung his head, feeling the ache in his jaw and throat, and coughed. His whole body was hot from the exertion, his heart still beating fast.

“Look at me,” Roman said.

When Jason didn’t, Roman slapped him across the face with the bread in hand. He slapped so hard that Jason could hear his ears ring—but he could still hear Roman’s following command.

Jason murmured in response.

“I can’t hear you. Louder.”

“I’m a filthy bread slut.”

“Now what do you say?” Roman said. And this one was no surprise—it was practiced.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“That’s Bread Daddy to you, slut. But good enough.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> As I mentioned, I wrote this a long time ago for some friends with no intentions of actually posting it, but I figured that On This Glorious Day, I might as well post it.
> 
> I would like to formally apologize to Jason stans and the JayRoman community for conceiving this, much less writing and posting it. And for any of you who might feel like you were baited, I'm sorry, I tried to leave warning hints.
> 
> Also I would apologize to my loyal readers but lbr, y'all knew the quality of my writing has been dipping for quite some time now.
> 
> Feel free to send me hateful DMs:
> 
>  
> 
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/lacemonsterbats)
> 
>  
> 
> My Discord: lacemonster#3491


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